


A Poison to End All Ills

by hereticalvision



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-24
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:23:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticalvision/pseuds/hereticalvision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is nothing but a collared sorcerer.  Arthur can't afford to be distracted by a mere slave when the kingdom is falling apart.</p><p>(This is an early S1 Arthur only worse, at least at first. There are sexual situations however I assure you, there is no non-con.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Poison to End All Ills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



When you have a resource, Father always said, make use of it.

The fact that the solution to the blight of magic on the kingdom was itself magical in nature was both ironical and not widely discussed. The more important fact was that it worked. Whatever the chain was made from, it attached itself around a magic user's neck immediately and seamlessly, preventing them from using sorcery of any kind.

When you have an endless supply of labour, Father usually added, the country will thrive.

 

On the day he first saw Merlin, Arthur was teasing his personal slave, tossing weapons at him laughingly ordering him to move faster until he finally fell to the ground. The knights jeered, Arthur loudest of all.

A strange boy had addressed him, as though he had any right to. "That's enough!"

Arthur turned into eyes that blazed gold. Once it would have been a reason for fear – now it was mere impotence. Arthur's gaze flashed down to the collar made of chain and back up to the eyes, now blue. A pretty face, perhaps, but belonging to a nothing. A sorcerer. A slave.

"You're scaring him," the boy said. "You're hurting him."

Arthur looked at his knights. They were just playing around, having a laugh, it wasn't anything at all.

"Do I know you, slave?"

"Not 'slave'," he replied. "Merlin."

"Well, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said, smirking. "Do you know how to walk on your knees?"

Merlin's face cracked into an expression somewhere between anger and pain. "Is that what you were teaching him?" He pointed to the boy on the ground, the slave who had been running back and forth, who gasped for breath now, exhausted, fear in his eyes.

Arthur shoved his discomfort away. "I can teach you, too." Merlin's eyes blazed again and Arthur laughed, throwing his head back, enjoying the rush of power. "What are you going to do to me?"

Merlin looked away. The truth they both knew was simple: he could do nothing.

 

Merlin's owner, Gaius, was a kindly man. Arthur had always liked him. He fell to his death when a bannister gave way; Merlin had apparently broken his arm trying to catch him.

There were questions asked about whether Merlin might have killed him, but given that ownership of his person reverted to the King automatically, the idea was dismissed. Merlin had known that. He had known he would have nothing to gain.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Arthur said airily.

And Arthur kept an eye on him, this Merlin who dared to speak to him as though they were equals. He couldn't sew, he could barely clean. He was useless in training practice and Arthur took perverse delight in beating him with the flat sides of sword and then telling him off for falling.

And he watched Merlin's eyes and was amused to see his slave hate him.

 

Morgana saw it one day, the way Merlin fell to the ground. "I wish you wouldn't hurt him," she said to Arthur. "He's always been so sweet – he used to bring me Gaius' potions every night. Gwen cares for him. I know he's your slave but don't you see you're abusing him?"

Arthur shrugged. "He's an insolent whelp and he needs it beaten out of him."

He should have known better; Morgana always seemed on edge these days. She curled her lip now and spun away. "You're worse than your father!" she spat as she stormed out.

"What's wrong with being like Father?" Arthur wondered aloud.

 

Arthur's amusement with Merlin's hatred paled after a few weeks' exposure to his incompetence. Merlin didn't know how to put on armour, how to serve food correctly, nothing.

"You're the most useless slave I can imagine!" Arthur roared one day. "What on earth did Gaius have you doing!"

"Not attaching his armour, that's for sure!" Merlin fired back. It was the first time in three weeks Merlin had said anything but "Yes sire" or "No sire" with that hatred burning in his eyes. Arthur felt a cruel smile twist his lips as he felt all the joy of pushing the slave beyond endurance.

"You still dare address me in this way?"

Merlin's chin came up. Arthur waited for his blue eyes to blaze gold but it didn't happen – Merlin was doing nothing more than trying to stare him down. "As a prat? I certainly do."

Arthur curled his fingers into the stupid neckerchief Merlin affected in an attempt to hide his collar of chain and pulled him closer. "I could have you flogged for that."

The fight seemed to fly out of Merlin at once and Arthur felt irrationally angry at the loss of resistance. The heat of his breath and body was so close; Arthur felt the slump in Merlin's every muscle.

"Then do it," Merlin said, exhaustion in every line of his body.

Arthur pushed him away. "Clean these properly next time," was all he said, his thoughts chaotic.

 

There was something about Merlin, Arthur acknowledged to himself. There was something in the way he smiled wide and artless at anyone who spoke to him, though, knowing what he was, most would not. There was something about the way he strove to seem cheerful and unaffected by even the most pointed insult though Arthur could see the weight of this life pressing him down.

The other knights liked to torment him. Arthur had let them, even encouraged it, but now watching Merlin instead of leading the laughter, Arthur felt a pang of remorse.

"Thank you Merlin," he tried one day when Merlin had managed to mend his best tunic to an appropriate standard for the first time.

Merlin looked at him, shocked and obviously disarmed.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "You managed to do something right at last," he blurted.

Merlin's face didn't fall as Arthur had expected. It blazed instead into something almost like real happiness. "Sire," he said quietly.

Arthur felt his heart grow a little lighter, and promptly told himself off for being a gigantic girl.

 

There was something about Merlin, and it was getting under Arthur's skin. It was the earth scent of his sweat when he was close, the odd moments of defiance. It was the long pale fingers working the fastenings on Arthur's clothes.

Then came the tournament. Knights from all over the realm, from far-distant shores came to compete. Arthur covered his nerves by berating Merlin, as usual, but the heat had gone out of it.

A knight from the Western Isles, Valiant, seemed to be Arthur's only real competition. Arthur wondered how their inevitable bout would turn out.

Then Merlin came to him, white-faced. "Valiant is using magic!"

"That is not possible," Arthur said flatly.

"I saw him – his shield is enchanted, the snakes come to life!"

"That's enough, Merlin!" Arthur snapped. "You cannot accuse a knight – I cannot go to my father and tell him I am taking the word of a slave."

Merlin's face filled with fury and Arthur felt a leap within him. "Then fight him," Merlin snapped. "I hope he kills you!"

Arthur squared up to Merlin. "I could have you executed for speaking to me that way."

Merlin laughed, a choking sound utterly devoid of humour. "Don't you understand?" he said. "I'm dead already."

 

In the end it was a simple case of accidentally allowing some of the chain to find its way into the armoury and watch it strangle the snakes. Valiant was executed.

None of that bothered Arthur as much as Merlin's words.

 

"Do you not see how vulnerable you leave yourself," said Merlin, "when you will use no magic to fight that of your enemies?"

"Valiant was caught."

"Because I caught him!" Merlin shouted. "Because I know magic when I see it even if its use is denied to me."

"You did well," Arthur acknowledged softly. "You saved my life."

Merlin was silent then, silent and too close, flushed with his anger, power radiating from his body. "Merlin," Arthur breathed, wondering if Merlin could see all Arthur dreamed of in his face. He reached out, hesitantly and touched Merlin's face.

Merlin jerked away instinctively. Arthur's heart gave a dull thump in his chest.

"I won't," he said, "I won't hurt you."

Merlin looked away. "You don't have to seduce me if you want me," he said flatly. "You command and I obey, after all."

Arthur reared back at that. That wasn't what he wanted, Merlin meekly submitting beneath him with gritted teeth. Didn't Merlin want him at all? But his body was turned away, taut. Fearful.

"Go," Arthur snapped. "You are dismissed."

Merlin bowed and backed out of the room without meeting his eyes again. Arthur sank down into his chair.

 

When people in the kingdom started dying, the first thing Uther did was command all the sorcerers be taken to prison. With no court physician yet appointed, urgent messages were sent to the far corners of the kingdom and a man named Edwin appeared.

He pursed his lips and shielded his scarred face from Arthur's view. "I have a cure for all ills," he said. "But this is no disease. This is sorcery."

Merlin seemed to take to Edwin and Arthur was almost glad. It made sense; the boy might see him as a replacement for Gaius.

Arthur told himself he did not resent it and forced himself not to punish Merlin out of his own irrational sense of jealousy.

 

Then the father of Morgana's servant, Gwen, came down with the disease and Merlin stopped eating. He went from slender to painfully thin. Arthur wondered if perhaps he was in love with the girl, who was pretty enough and generally thought of as kind. That too made him irrational, but then he looked at Merlin who was exhausted near to falling down and he could not wish ill on her.

The man died.

"There was nothing you could do," Arthur tried when the news made Merlin still worse.

He muttered something.

"What?" said Arthur.

"Perhaps I could have!" Merlin snapped, all the fire back in him in a rush. "If I still had my magic perhaps I could have saved him! Perhaps I could have saved them all!"

Arthur felt his face freeze.

"Is that what you meant when you said…"

"You have no idea what it's like," Merlin said, slumping again. "If I can't do magic, what have I got? I'm just a slave and always will be."

Arthur had no idea what to say.

"You throw your weight around. All of you, still so afraid of us. So you torture us when you've already done damn near everything you can to us anyway," Merlin whispered, tears in his eyes. "Don't you understand? Magic was all I had. If I can't use magic I might as well be dead."

 

People kept dying. Arthur hoped that Edwin would somehow cure everyone. But then his father died. His strong, proud, fierce father turned white and died.

Arthur's coronation was a sombre affair to say the least.

"You must sleep in my chambers now," he told Merlin. "And there are to be guards on the doors."

Merlin nodded. "I think Edwin might have…"

"Go on," said Arthur.

Merlin shook his head. "There's been so much death."

"You thought he might have saved us?"

"Something like that," Merlin said, eyes empty.

 

People kept dying and dying and Arthur did not know where to turn. He struck out harder at all those who had magic, searched the woods for the Druids and had them killed. Morgana would not speak to him after the young boy was executed but what else could Arthur do? They were all guilty and those who had somehow evaded the chain collar doubly so. Age was no defence.

He never spoke of those things to Merlin.

 

One night, Merlin woke him. He was thrashing around in his sleep, crying out. Arthur wondered at himself, reduced to comforting a slave, but he shook Merlin awake nonetheless.

"The dragon beneath the castle," Merlin gasped, "it speaks to me in my dreams."

Arthur swallowed. "What does it say?"

"There might be a way to stop this," Merlin said and for the first time in weeks he seemed alive.

 

Arthur took his sword and followed Merlin into the bowels of the castle where the Afanc waited. He was not afraid, he told himself. He wished only to defend his people.

The Afanc was a terrible beast, sharp teeth and hard skin. Arthur was sure he had hit it with his sword more than once, but the beast seemed utterly unharmed.

Merlin shouted something but Arthur could not hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. This is it, Arthur thought. This is how I will die.

"Use the torch!" Merlin screamed again, and Arthur tried but he could not get near enough. And then somehow Merlin was there, ramming fire into the beast's eye. It cried out in rage as it burst into flame and then it was gone and Merlin was on the ground, his face and body burned.

 

Arthur took him to Edwin at once.

"He is near death, sire," Edwin said as he examined Merlin. "I do not know what I can do."

"You must save him," Arthur said, knowing that he must sound far too desperate for far too little cause.

"There is a way, sire," Edwin said, his voice hesitant. "But…"

When he did not continue Arthur prompted him. "Yes?"

Edwin looked him full in the face. "I will need to use… illegal measures."

Arthur knew what the man was saying. Knew it and knew at once that the man had murdered his father. But there was no one else, no one else but Merlin left for him and this wasn't even a choice.

"Do it," he ordered before he left the room.

 

That night he had a dream. Merlin woke him softly, kneeling by the bed. Joy suffused Arthur's body. He was so relieved he could nearly have wept. He clutched at Merlin's hand, pressed it to his lips. And with barely a moment of hesitation, Merlin lowered his mouth to Arthur's.

Arthur knew it must be a dream because this Merlin wore no collar. This Merlin bore no marks from the fire. This Merlin arched against him and gasped with pleasure at his touch. This Merlin kissed him as though he was all anyone in the world could desire. This Merlin used his body and mouth and brought Arthur more pleasure than he had ever known.

"I love you," Arthur whispered.

It was only when there was no response that Arthur began to wonder if it wasn't a dream after all.

 

In the morning, Merlin and Edwin were gone. Those who had not yet died of the illness were recovering. His knights had let it be known throughout the city that he had personally faced the beast that had caused all this suffering, and that the people were safe. Arthur swallowed hard and let them credit him with their salvation.

Merlin left him only the length of chain which had formed his collar and the neckerchief he had worn to cover it. Arthur cannot bear to throw either away.


End file.
